


A Married Man

by castles



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-01
Updated: 2011-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castles/pseuds/castles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles knows Erik was married once because he knows everything about Erik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Married Man

Charles knows Erik was married once because he knows everything about Erik. He knows she was the last person to share Erik's horrors, the last person he trusted and loved. He knows they'd married too young, still in their teens, and he knows it was short lived.

Erik is a very goal-oriented man, though, mind practical and organized, and he doesn't think of her often, at least not in a overtly emotional way that Charles could pick up without prodding. Like the way he thinks of the coin in his pocket. But every now and then in their road trip Erik's eyes linger on something in a gift shop. Usually something very tasteful and feminine. And grown-up. Charles marvels at that. Erik and his wife had parted ways while they were both still young, but Erik always mentally adjusts her age. She is not forever twenty in his mind.

As far as Charles knows, Erik never really bought anything. Anything except a brooch.

The brooch had been on display in an antiques store in Boston, Charles had seen it, too. It was small and delicate and had been exquisitely shaped in the form of a caravel. Charles didn't know Erik had bought it until it was handed to him while they were both sitting in their rental car, ready to leave to the airport, then back to Washington.

"Here. Give it to Agent MacTaggert," he said, quickly adding with a smirk, "Unless you're not at that stage yet. Then give it to your sister."

Charles didn't know what to say. He'd offer to buy it back, but he knew that wouldn't sit well with Erik. "Erik. I can't. This is a beautiful gift. I can't take it from you. You should hold on to it."

"Should I?" The look Erik was shooting him wasn't harsh, but it dared Charles to elaborate. To elaborate on hope and love and more. Charles wasn't ready to do that. _They_ were not at that stage in their friendship yet.

"All right. Thank you. Very much. I'm afraid this isn't quite Raven's style, though. Could I keep it for you?"

Erik's eyebrows shot up. "I think I saw a pair of earrings at the store that would go well with that brooch and compliment your eyes, Charles. Do you want us to go back?"

"You don't even really know what shade of blue my eyes are, I'm just a toy to you. Now shush and drive."

He was starting to get these grins from Erik more often. That bode well.

*

It was their regular post-chess conversation at the kitchen, with Erik dryly poking fun at Charles's privilege, while Charles laughed, taking no offense because none was meant. Until Charles started talking about possible heirs to the Xavier fortune.

Erik looked at him appraising and serious. "Do you plan to get married? I didn't peg you as one for marriage."

It took Charles aback. Now he didn't know if he _should_ be offended. "Well, I haven't discarded the possibility."

"You're terrible with women. You know that, don't you?"

Oh wow. " _Thank you_ , my friend, aren't you a flatterer today."

"You feed Robert Louis Stevenson themed speeches to Hank and don't even realize your sister has a similar problem and needs help."

"Raven?! What's wrong- there's nothing-," Charles feels like a dangerous line has been crossed. "She has the mind of a teenager. She's just concerned with her looks. It's nothing serious."

"Charles," Erik seemed exasperated, his coffee forgotten in favor of a cigarette. They sit in tense silence for quite some time until Charles moves to take their only half-drank cups to the sink, but Erik reaches for his wrist signaling for Charles to stay. He lets go when Charles acquiesces.

"Men like us shouldn't get married, Charles." It's soft and matter of fact and followed by exhaled smoke.

"Men like us? What sort of men do you think we are?"

Their knees brush under the table and for a moment the tension is replaced by... something else. It had been happening for a while with them. Charles knew exactly what that something was, but didn't feel quite comfortable with it. Erik, on the other hand, was completely comfortable with it. He hadn't given it as much thought, but it was pleasant, unobtrusive and therefore not urgent. The coin in his pocket was urgent.

Erik pointed upward, indicating the young mutants peacefully asleep in rooms right above them. "You started something, Charles. You have a cause now. Embrace it. Marry it."

*

Sometimes Charles would get gifts with his personal mail. It was a regular enough occurrence after he became a public personality and spokesperson for mutantkind. T-shirts, ties, grips (for the wheelchair). It made going through the much more frequent hate mail and threats much easier to bear.

He'd get more expensive, sophisticated gifts from time to time as well. But nothing quite compared to the ones with no return address, wrapped carefully in ordinary brown paper. Those were special.

He was precisely thinking of the last one he'd received when he felt his chair being disassembled under him and crash under his weight. His head hit the hotel room floor with a thud as rage personified hovered over him.

Erik had reason to be angry. Thanks to Charles, two of his recruits had been arrested and the bunker he'd gone through great pains to build in South Africa had been busted.

But Charles just smiled up at him. "I had a feeling I'd get to thank you personally this time." Erik looked at him hard. "For the scotch. I got it. Your taste is still impeccable."


End file.
